We Could Be Heroes
by K.R. Saks
Summary: ONE-SHOT. "As much as you're a pain in the ass, you're my best friend, Taichi. I need you. Our friends need you." Taichi thought Yamato's confession was pretty great and all, until he followed up his statement with: "And by the way, I think I'm going to ask Sora out." Well now... that complicated things a little. [Outtake from Digimon Adventure tri.]
**A brief note before we begin:** Think of this one-shot as an outtake from _Digimon Adventure tri._ There are minor references to events in _Reunion_ and _Determination_ , so read at your own risk if you want to avoid any spoilers! :) If not, please enjoy! Now... onward!

* * *

 **We could be heroes.**

* * *

"There you are."

Taichi spun around; the salmon roll was halfway to his mouth when he caught sight of the speaker who had dared to interrupt such a delicious lunch. Yamato was approaching his table, his light blue jacket slung casually over one shoulder.

Ishida Yamato—too cool for school and rebellious to a fault. He had a grimace on his face again, which made Taichi wonder if Yamato just didn't enjoy smiling, or if he had trained himself not to. After all, the lead singer of Knife of Day couldn't possibly look happy with everyone. You had to be privileged to receive that charming grin.

He snickered at the thought. _Knife of Day. HA._ He didn't think he'd ever get used to it.

Yamato must've caught the look on his face because his perpetual scowl deepened and he slid into the empty seat to Taichi's right, giving him a rough shove in the same motion. The gesture knocked Taichi's chopsticks loose, sending the salmon roll flying into the air. It landed with an unceremonious splat on the tray and dissembled upon impact.

Taichi looked down at his spoiled lunch in dismay. This was _precisely_ why he'd been hiding out. It was so typical of Yamato to ruin everything. "Dammit, Ishida. That was my last roll."

Yamato threw his jacket on the other empty seat. "All the better. You could lose some weight."

"It's called _muscles_. It's not my fault you want to look like a twig."

He grinned and quickly ducked to avoid the swipe at his head. When he resurfaced, he found Yamato staring at him moodily, eyes a dark stormy blue despite the cheerful sunlight filtering in through the windows. His mouth was pinched and brows furrowed, but even so, he somehow managed to make the expression look _good._ Taichi bit back a sigh. No wonder girls—and some boys—in school were head over heels for Yamato. He probably even made constipation look charming. Sometimes life really wasn't fair.

"All right, fine," he acquiesced, after getting over himself. "Since you've effectively ruined my lunch, what can I do for you, Mr. Knife of Day?"

Yamato sniffed. A strand of blond hair fell into his eyes and he brushed it away impatiently. "We're World on the Knife now, actually."

Taichi lifted a brow. "Are you in charge of naming the band? Because if you want my honest opinion—"

"No one ever does."

"—the names aren't very good."

He smirked when he saw Yamato's eyes narrow further, and—thanking god for his fast reflexes from years of playing soccer—he caught Yamato's punch towards his stomach. "Okay seriously, what's wrong with you today? Why are you so violent?"

"Why are _you_ so childish?"

Taichi spread his hands. "What can I say? I'm just brimming with vitality."

But Yamato clearly wasn't in a joking mood. He pushed aside the lunch tray and the various textbooks that had served as a divider between them and leaned forward, resting both arms on the table.

"You've been avoiding me. Don't think I haven't noticed."

Taichi's stomach tightened and he could feel his grin falter, but he struggled to keep it in place. Of course Yamato would notice. As much as they antagonized each other, they also completed one another. Two peas in a pod and all that.

"I wasn't trying to be discreet about it," he replied, injecting as much sincerity as he could into his words. Because honestly, he _had_ been hoping his absence would go unnoticed. "But kudos to you for being so observant. Do you want a prize?"

Yamato took in a deep breath, as if he were visibly trying to calm himself. "Look, I just want to talk about what happened with Omegamon, all right? I'm sorry. I'm sorry I got angry earlier." He lowered his voice. "I _can_ see where you're coming from. All these attacks, all that damage… I'm not blind. Yes, we're tearing up the landscape, but that shouldn't change how we react to the danger. You can't just run away and expect everything to be okay."

"I don't expect things to be okay," Taichi muttered. And he really didn't. In fact, he knew now more than ever that things weren't going to be okay until they fully understood the cause of all the Infected Digimon. "But maybe we're wrong, Yamato. Maybe... maybe we're not meant to fight like this."

He jerked back as if Taichi had slapped him, and shoved out of his seat so quickly that his chair made a loud screech against the linoleum floor. The students the next table over turned to stare, but Yamato didn't notice them—or if he did, he didn't care. His eyes were trained on Taichi, almost as if he thought he could _will_ him to understand his rage.

"You're afraid," he accused. There was anger in his voice, but also disbelief. "But _why?_ You've never been…"

" _Sit down_ , Ishida," Taichi groaned. He grabbed Yamato's arm and gave it a harsh tug. "You're embarrassing me."

It took a few serious shoves before Yamato grudgingly collapsed back into his seat, although he looked none too pleased.

"I'm not afraid," Taichi said, after checking to make sure no one was still listening in on their conversation. "I'm not," he repeated, when he only received a distrustful look. "But it's about more than just defeating evil Digimon now. Are we truly protecting these people?"

"How are we not? We're not hurting them."

"The Infected Digimon are looking for _us_. Isn't that what Koushiro said? Our existence is hurting them."

"So it's up to us to stop them." Yamato rested a hand on Taichi's forearm, as if the physical touch would drive his point home. "How do you expect people to fight something they barely understand?"

Taichi looked into his eyes, could see the earnestness and the strength and the real belief that they were doing the right thing. Hadn't he believed so too, once upon a time? Six years ago, when they had first entered the Digital World, good versus evil had been so apparent to him. They had always been on the right side, saving the Digital World from corruption, saving home from destruction.

But what was considered "right" anymore? Everywhere they went, there was destruction in their wake. Buildings gone, people hurt, and with a very real threat still hanging over their heads.

But how could he explain all this to Yamato without sounding like a coward? How could he explain that he was scared—honestly scared to death—that one day, somebody would die by his hands? Maybe indirectly, maybe as a negative externality, but ultimately it would still be his fault.

He didn't think he could live with himself if that were to ever happen. But looking at Yamato now, looking at the fury blazing in those blue eyes, he knew Yamato would only ever see it as a betrayal. As turning his back on their friendship.

"Yamato…"

"You're running away," he said flatly. "Why?"

Taichi's jaw clenched and he looked away. "I'm worried…" he finally managed. "I'm worried we'll do something we won't be able to turn back from."

Yamato's brows furrowed. "Like what?"

"Like…" _Like killing someone._ But he couldn't bring himself to say it.

He eyed the scratches on the table, mentally stalling for time... and then decided that he might as well face the music soon. Or in this case, face Yamato's flying spit as he raged about his shortcomings.

Taichi slowly lifted his head and met Yamato's eyes, but what he found there surprised him. He definitely wasn't smiling, but it seemed as if all the fight had left him now. He was leaning back in his seat, arms crossed, and was assessing Taichi with a look of sheer exasperation tinged with… affection?

"God, Yagami," he finally said. "Trying to get a decent explanation from you is like trying to pry Koushiro away from his laptop—impossible."

Taichi reluctantly smiled. "Well… I never said I was good with words."

"Sora did tell me that, though it's not as if I didn't already know."

He blinked. "Sora?"

"She convinced me to talk to you again," Yamato admitted. He was fiddling with the various leather bracelets on his left wrist, but he looked up with a small grin. "She said we needed to get over ourselves and set a good example for the team."

"Ha," Taichi snorted, "setting a good example? Please. That was never my job."

"Of course it wasn't. You were always charging headlong into danger without thinking about the consequences. I can't even recall the number of times I've had to come save your sorry ass." Yamato smiled then, a genuine smile that lit up his face and brightened his eyes. "You sure took the meaning of our crests literally. Although I'd have considered your actions more stupid than courageous."

Taichi almost smiled. Almost. Because that wasn't who he was anymore, was it? The courage that had carried him through the Digital World so many years ago had apparently deserted him. What was it he had told Yamato a few days ago? _Now I see more and understand less._

Yamato seemed to sense the change in his mood because the careful grin that had been on his face slowly slipped away, leaving a watchful wariness that did little to settle Taichi's mind.

When he finally spoke, his voice was grim. "I'll drop the matter for now, but you know I won't let this go. You need to pull yourself together. As much as you're a pain in the ass, you're my best friend, Taichi. I need you. Our friends need you."

Taichi didn't say anything. He didn't have to. Theirs was a friendship forged through bruised knuckles and the fiery paths of celestial arrows. Sometimes things were just taken as given.

The lunch bell suddenly rang, startling Taichi out of his thoughts. All around them, students were hurriedly tossing their lunches and grabbing their backpacks for the upcoming period. Taichi groaned, realizing that he was going to have to face the reality of an unpleasant afternoon of classes. Talking about the Digital World always drew him away from his more immediate problems… such as turning in his math homework on time.

Yamato stood and pushed his chair in, but since he hadn't brought anything with him, he was ready to go. Taichi slammed his math text shut in a frenzy, yanking out the now-crinkled homework that had been unfortunate enough to get caught between the pages.

Yamato watched him pack with a loud sigh. "You're a real mess, Taichi. How did you ever make it past first grade?"

"Don't start," he growled, finally succeeding in cramming his textbook into his backpack. "You're not my mother."

"And thank the heavens for that," Yamato responded, although he sounded absentminded now, as if his mind was very far away. "Oh, and by the way... I've also been meaning to ask you something else."

Taichi was busy wrestling with the zipper on his backpack—he silently vowed to invest in a larger bag in the future—and muttered a noncommittal "Hmm?" in between yanks.

"I think I'm going to ask Sora out."

Taichi froze.

One hand was still on the zipper, the other hand clamped around the material of his backpack. He could hear the words ringing in his ears, over and over again, but it was as if the part of his brain that was responsible for thinking had decided to stop working. All he could feel was a numbness that started at the center of his chest and was slowly spreading throughout his body.

And through all the fog and the haze, the only thought that still remained clear as day was: Sora? _My_ Sora? Yamato wanted to ask _my_ Sora out?

But she really wasn't _his_ Sora, was she? They had grown up together, certainly, and had spent years playing soccer together… but Sora didn't play soccer anymore. Taichi still remembered the day she'd told him she wasn't going to continue with the sport. Tennis was the new order of the day, apparently, and with a little smile and a "you better come watch my matches," she had extricated herself from his day-to-day life. He should've known from then on that he didn't really have a chance anymore… never had a chance to begin with, really.

Was it honestly all because of that stupid hairclip?

"Taichi?"

He blinked, only realizing just then that Yamato had been waiting for a reaction from him. He was looking at Taichi almost expressionlessly, but there was a small telltale twitch at the upper right corner of his mouth that suggested he was nervous.

But he really shouldn't have been.

Taichi took in the casually tousled blond hair, took in those pale blue eyes that sparkled in just the right lighting, saw the effortless elegance in Yamato's movements, even as he crossed his arms impatiently.

Of course it would be Yamato. It would always be Yamato. How could he even hope to compare?

"You know, you're really trying my patience," Yamato growled. His right eyebrow ticked, a sure sign that he was steadily losing his temper.

Taichi grinned then. It was probably more of a grimace than an actual smile, but he couldn't really bring himself to care at this point. "Haven't you heard patience is a virtue, Ishida?"

He groaned. "Taichi…"

"I'm just kidding, take it easy. If you want to ask Sora out, you should just do it. Why are you telling me?"

Now Yamato looked a little uncomfortable. He ran a hand through his hair, almost awkwardly. "Do you think she'll say yes?"

"I don't think anyone would say no to you," Taichi responded truthfully. He gave the zipper one last vicious tug that successfully closed his backpack, and he swung it over his right shoulder. "I mean seriously, who could resist all this blondness?" He reached out and ruffled Yamato's hair, earning a loud cry of protest.

With a loud snicker, Taichi started heading down the stairs to the lower levels where the majority of the classrooms were located. Yamato, after furiously brushing his hair back into place, caught up to him easily. They traveled in companionable silence, each lost in his own thoughts.

Taichi glanced at Yamato out of the corner of his eyes, and took in the thoughtful expression on his face with some confusion. It was common knowledge that Yamato had no problems when it came to the female population, something that Taichi was secretly envious of but would rather die before admitting to it. He, on the other hand, couldn't seem to even give a girl a gift without insulting her. So what was it that had Yamato doubting himself? He was, if anything, not insecure.

The hallway spilled out into the central atrium, and Taichi made to turn right, where his classroom was located. Yamato's hand on his arm stopped him in his tracks, however. It wasn't a particularly heavy touch, but it was lingering enough that Taichi paused to consider him seriously.

From the expression on Yamato's face, it looked like there was something he really wanted to say, but for one reason or another, was choosing to remain mute. Students surged around them as the minutes slowly ticked away to the beginning of class.

"Err Yamato? As much as I hate to say this, class-"

"You would tell me if something made you unhappy, right?"

Taichi blinked, startled into silence. He momentarily wondered if he had misheard the question, but Yamato's gaze was searching, as if there was something he thought he ought to see but hadn't quite been able to find yet.

"Of course," he finally said, stumped. "I mean, it's me we're talking about. Hikari tells me I complain more than a two-year-old sometimes."

Yamato cracked a smile, finally releasing his arm. "She has a point there."

"What-"

"We should go," he said. "Class is about to start." And with that dismissive statement and a quick wave, Yamato strode off to the left, leaving a very confused Taichi in his wake.

* * *

"SO I HEARD THE NEWS!"

Sora jolted, nearly slicing her own finger off as the familiarly shrill voice pierced her concentration. A gust of wind and a blur of pink later, Mimi was sitting across from her, dressed to impress even on a casual weekend. Today, she was wearing a tight halter top with NYC emblazoned on the front in bright pink letters.

"Hi Mimi," Sora greeted resignedly. She had been hoping to use the quiet afternoon to help her mom with some floral arrangements, but now it looked like that would not be the case. How Mimi even found her in her mom's flower shop was beyond her.

Mimi giggled. "Did I scare you? Your expression was hilarious."

"Thanks," she grumbled. She set down the rose she had been de-thorning and pushed aside the rest of the flowers so Mimi wouldn't accidentally stab herself on one of them. "What news did you hear?"

"So I bumped into Yamato at the mall. Had to get a new top, you know? Oh! Speaking of which, they have the _cutest_ hats on sale right now! I was thinking of getting one for you, but-"

"Mimi," Sora interrupted firmly. "You were saying?"

"Oh right! Sorry." She grinned and tossed her hair back, not sounding very sorry at all. "As I was saying, Yamato seemed happy. _Really_ happy. And I honestly can't remember the last time he was so ecstatic about something."

At the mention of Yamato's name, Sora flushed to her roots. Damn herself for being unable to hide anything!

Mimi's sharp eyes caught the look immediately and she jumped on it. Physically. She lunged across the table and grabbed Sora's hands, looking absolutely gleeful. Sora mentally congratulated herself for having the foresight to move all sharp objects out of the way.

"He asked you out, didn't he?" Mimi's grin only widened when Sora didn't say anything. "Oh I _knew_ it! _AND?_ Did you say yes?" She was slowly leaning forward more and more until she was practically lying flat across the table. Sora wanted to giggle at her earnestness, but then figured Mimi probably wouldn't appreciate being laughed at.

"I said I'd go to the movies with him," she finally admitted, and then had to cover her ears as Mimi squealed. "Calm down, Meems. It's only a movie."

But the girl would not be calmed. She jumped up and did a fancy little twirl, causing her pink locks to flare up in a halo around her head. "It's not _just_ a movie. It's the first step! This is so cute!"

Now Sora was exasperated. "Come on, Mimi, it's not that big of a deal."

"But you've been caught between Yamato and Taichi _forever_ , and…" She suddenly slapped a hand to her mouth in horror, her eyes widening till they were as round as saucers. "Oh!" she breathed. "What about Taichi? Did you tell him?"

Taichi? At his name, Sora couldn't help but flush again, and she looked down at her fingernails. Yagami Taichi… the idiot who was practically her half-brother. The idiot whom she had idiotically had a crush on when she was twelve. The idiot who… but he wasn't such an idiot anymore, was he?

She had sensed that something was different about Taichi after that initial fight with the Kuwagamons at the Haneda airport, but had chalked it up to be an off day for him at the time. But then she had seen Omegamon dissolve, had seen the shock and then the look of resignation on Yamato's face as he walked away from Taichi.

Just what was Taichi thinking? Yamato had told her earlier that he and Taichi had temporarily worked out their differences, but she could tell that he didn't understand Taichi any more than the rest of them did at the moment.

It was frustrating, to say the least.

Sora was jerked back to reality when she felt something sharp prickling her hand. She scowled, but Mimi merely waved the still-thorny rose and gave it a little whiff.

"I take it from your silence that you didn't tell Taichi yet," she said.

Sora sighed. "No, but what do I even say? 'Hi Taichi, I just wanted to let you know that Yamato asked me to a movie earlier today. Mimi thinks you might care, so I'm telling you now.'"

Mimi rolled her eyes. "That was really cute, Sora, but no." She made a face. "Just bring it up in casual conversation. It can't be that hard. I've seen the two of you together… you guys act like you're five."

"Thanks."

She grinned and tossed the now-shredded rose back onto the table. "You know me, always the helpful one." But then her tone turned unexpectedly serious, and she rested a gentle hand on Sora's. "Figure out who it is you want, Sor, and then let the other one go. It's not fair to either of them if you string them both along."

Sora looked down at the table, which was now littered with red petals. "I know, Meems. I know."

* * *

"They don't even _care_ about soccer! They just want my sister." Taichi let out a loud groan and tipped his head back, nearly smacking it straight into the cabinet behind him. "Why, Sora? _Why?_ "

"I'm sure it's not that bad." Sora tapped him lightly on the head with the daikon she was peeling for his mom. They had been in the middle of helping with dinner preparations when Taichi had decided to make his angst known to the world. "I saw your practice the other day. You guys are looking pretty good for the match next Monday."

"Bah" was his response, and he stared at the cabbage in front of him glumly. "I just want to lock Hikari in a room and never let her out again. I don't want evil perverted high school boys thinking nasty thoughts about her."

Sora raised an eyebrow. "Evil perverted high school boys? You do realize that describes you, right?" Having finished peeling, she carefully reached around Taichi to grab the chopping knife, very wary of his propensity for making sudden movements.

But he only laughed and tossed the head of cabbage into the air, as if it were a soccer ball. Chunks of it peeled off and fell to the floor, littering the kitchen with various pieces of green and white.

"True, but at least all the innocent high school girls are safe from me. I've only ever had evil perverted thoughts for one girl, and-" He abruptly froze, looking incredibly startled. The head of cabbage slipped through his fingers and would've crash-landed on the floor if Sora hadn't caught it in time.

She scowled and shoved the vegetable back into Taichi's still-frozen hands. "Way to go there, superstar. That was some really good hand-eye coordination I just saw."

He blinked, as if waking up from a stupor, and muttered a quick "sorry" before turning to wash the cabbage again. Still, his movements seemed jerky and off-kilter, and Sora could've sworn she'd seen him berate himself under his breath.

Her curiosity was admittedly piqued. One girl? Is that what Taichi had said? Despite all the years they'd known each other, they had never really broached the topic of relationships before. It wasn't that they had been purposefully avoiding it, but when you grew up playing in the mud and talking about soccer, tennis, more soccer, and then saving the world, relationships just didn't have a very strong foothold.

Now, however, with his slip of tongue and the conversation with Mimi still fresh on her mind, Sora wondered if it'd be a good time to start.

"How much eggplant did my mom say she wanted?" Taichi asked, stirring Sora out of her thoughts. She turned to find him digging around in his refrigerator, positioned in such a way that she could only see the lower half of his body. "Because I'm not even sure we have it."

"I don't think she mentioned anything about eggplants," Sora responded distractedly, and wondered exactly how she was going to bring the topic up. "Hey uh Taichi?"

"Yeah?" He was still rifling around in the fridge, but emerged a second later with a carton of eggs. "Want some? I'm kind of in the mood for some scrambled eggs." Even as he gestured towards the carton, he avoided looking at her, almost as if he were embarrassed about his previous slip.

Sora took the carton out of his hand and set it on the counter. "Taichi... can I ask you something?"

He had been studiously staring at the chopping board, but he looked up at her words. "Of course." And now he sounded a little perplexed. "What's up?"

"I kind of have a decision to make, and I wanted your input."

He blinked. "All right."

"But… what if you won't necessarily like my decision?"

Taichi lifted a brow then, but he shrugged and leaned back against the counter, dinner preparations all but forgotten. "I'm not sure I see where this is going, but you know me. I just want you to be happy. So however that's accomplished, I'll be supportive."

"Even if I date Yamato?" she blurted.

His eyes widened and his hands dropped to his sides, but to Sora's surprise, he didn't look as surprised as she had expected. If anything, past the initial shock, she thought she could see resignation and the beginnings of what looked like heartbreak in his eyes. But in the next moment, he was smiling, a corner of his lips quirked with mischief.

"You're going to date Yamato?" he asked.

Sora blushed a little and shrugged, as nonchalantly as she could. "I mean… maybe? He asked if I wanted to watch a movie, and I said yes. I don't know if this is going to lead to anything more." There was a pause as she bit her lip, and then she looked back up at him. "What do you think?"

Taichi scratched his chin, pretending to ponder the question. "Oh I don't know. I'm not sure I'd be able to put up with Mr. Perfect Hair for very long." He eyed her speculatively. "But then again, my hair pretty much has a mind of its own, so I suppose that doesn't count for much."

"Taichi," she reprimanded, but she was smiling. "I guess I'm just not sure we'd be a good fit. Yamato is… well, he's Yamato. Confident, aloof, and a little intimidating when he wants to be."

"Intimidating?" he scoffed. "Please. I'd like to just see him _try_ to kick my ass. Don't you remember that one time in the DigiWorld when we-" At her look, he sighed and held up both hands, palms out. "All right, all right, I'll be serious. So you're asking for my blessing?"

Sora absently fiddled with a piece of chopped daikon. "I guess I'm asking if you think it'd be a good idea."

"I don't know if you've noticed, Sor, but I'm not exactly a good go-to for relationship advice. You should try Koushiro, or even Joe. The wiser one or the older one."

"Are you avoiding the question?"

Taichi sighed, exasperated. "No, I'm not. I just don't know what you want me to say." He looked around the kitchen, as if the cooking pans or the half-chopped vegetables would give him inspiration. "And I don't know why we're having this conversation while preparing food for my mom. Come on." He grabbed her hand and led her out of the kitchen and into the living room, where he plopped her down onto the couch and returned momentarily with two bottles of juice.

He eyed her while he took a big swig of his. "Look," he finally said, "like I said earlier, you should do whatever makes you happiest. I'm a pretty simple guy with pretty simple philosophies."

But Sora didn't believe that. Maybe ten years ago, she would've waved it off and considered his response a typical happy-go-lucky Taichi response, but she knew better now. "But that's just it. I don't think you're a simple guy. I know you act that way, but when push comes to shove… I know you still haven't resolved your disagreement with Yamato yet."

Taichi rolled his eyes and leaned back against the armrest. "Yamato and I never agree on anything. It's part of the magic of our friendship."

"Magic," she repeated, only a little sarcastically. "Is that what he'd call it too?"

"Nah, he just calls me a pain in the ass. But really, he loves me." He grinned, flashing pearly whites. "See, this is the perfect example. Relationships are all about eventual happiness. Yamato and I antagonize each other on a daily basis, but ultimately, I would still like to keep him in my life."

"I feel like you antagonize him more," Sora said dryly, but motioned for him to continue.

"Maybe," Taichi admitted. "But that's the question you should ask yourself. Do you think you'll be happy with Yamato down the line?"

She thought about it for a moment, tried to imagine the life they'd have—five, ten, even twenty years down the line. Yes, Yamato could be a little aloof and a little cold, but he was like a firefly in some ways. He wasn't a constantly blazing star like Taichi was, wasn't always full of vitality and energy, but he was steady and comforting, and in the darkest of nights, he'd always be that steady glow that guided her home.

And wasn't that ultimately what she'd want from a relationship? Steadfast, supportive, comforting.

"Yes… I think I would be happy with Yamato."

Taichi's gaze was steady. "Then that's what you should do."

But was it really? "You know, Mimi mentioned something to me the other day."

He tipped his head, nearly creating an avalanche with his hair as he did. "Oh yeah? And what did dear old Meems say?"

"She told me to talk to you," Sora said slowly, carefully, keeping an ever-watchful eye on him. "She told me to consider your feelings."

She had assumed the words would have some sort of an effect on him, but for all she saw of his reaction, it was as if she hadn't mentioned anything at all. His face remained carefully curious, a little pleasant, and entirely too blank. Sora had slowly come to the realization over the years that Taichi was the most frustrating person to read. He acted like such an open book that she wouldn't have thought there was anything deeper to consider. But there was a constant feeling that even if she wanted to dig further, she'd just hit an impenetrable wall.

When he finally spoke, his words were light, teasing. "Well that's certainly nice of her and all, but this isn't exactly my decision."

Sora wanted to scream—he was so _frustrating!_ She could sense there was something he was carefully keeping under wraps, under layers and layers of sarcastic remarks, cheerful quips, and the casual grin that brushed any and all worries away. A part of her had an inkling as to what was potentially bothering him, but he kept such a vice-like grip on his thoughts that it was damn near impossible to pry.

So Sora said the only other thing she could think of to rattle him.

"I used to like you, Taichi."

And that, as she had expected, was the kicker.

Surprise flared in his eyes—one of the few truly genuine reactions from him all afternoon—and his lips parted slightly, as if he honestly couldn't believe what he was hearing. Sora's grip tightened on her juice bottle as she waited, eliciting a sharp crackling noise that echoed throughout the apartment.

It brought Taichi back to life. "What?" he finally spluttered. "You _what?_ "

"I used to like you," she repeated, and then shrugged, a little self-consciously. "I always thought it was fairly obvious, especially with the whole hairclip incident. But I guess I just never really made it known to you. Still, it was a little upsetting that you never picked up on it."

Taichi was looking at her as if he'd just been told the world was flat and that Yamato really _didn't_ care about his hair. "Sora, do you realize who you're talking to? I'm an idiot. I don't pick up on _anything._ "

"Okay that's not exactly what I was going for, but…"

"Why are you telling me this?"

Sora blushed and looked down at her hands. Her fingers were practically bloodless from the death grip she had on the bottle, and Taichi must've noticed because he gently pried the drink away from her, setting it on the coffee table in front of them.

"Sora?"

"Because…" she started, hesitated, and then tried again, "because I wanted to make sure you had all the information before you give me any advice."

He seemed to freeze at her words. At that moment, Sora wished more than ever that she could read him. There seemed to be a million thoughts going through his head, and she watched with increasing fascination as his brown eyes darkened and then lightened.

He looked down at the cushions for a moment, biting his lip almost hesitantly, and then asked, "Full information? I… you think my advice would change?"

Unbidden, Sora felt a surge of exasperation course through her. Her eyes narrowed and her hands flexed, and she briefly contemplated wringing his neck to squeeze all the stupidity out of him.

"Are you honestly this dense or are you just playing coy?" she demanded. She felt her cheeks flush again—this time, from anger. "I'm asking if you _like_ me, Taichi."

He blinked. Once. Twice. Three times.

"Oh," he finally said.

She sighed. Maybe she had been wrong. Maybe Mimi had been wrong too. More than ever, it felt like she was chasing after something that was clearly nonexistent.

"I..." Taichi started, and then stopped. He lifted his hand tentatively, almost as if he wanted to touch her, but decided against it and let it drop to his lap. "Sora, I..."

"SORA!"

She looked up just in time to see Biyomon flapping against the window of the balcony. Taichi immediately stood and let her in, and she flew straight into Sora's arms, a ball of pink and blue fluff.

"Biyomon? What happened?"

There was a beep to Sora's left, and she saw Taichi flip open his phone. "It's another Infected Digimon," he said grimly. "Near Shinjuku."

Sora's eyes widened and she stood up without another word, releasing Biyomon into the air. She scouted around for her bag and found it lying near the entrance to the apartment, next to her shoes. "I can't believe there's another attack so soon. Taichi, do you… Taichi?"

She turned back to look at him, and found that he had slumped back onto the couch. He was staring out the window and into the distance, an indescribable look on his face. Sora took a step closer to him, concerned. His lips were pulled down into a slight grimace, and he was wearing the look of a man who was about to do something he knew he'd regret.

She rested a hand on his arm. "Taichi? We have to go."

Taichi's gaze snapped to hers and held. And then, to her surprise, he extracted his arm, and in the same move, wrapped it around her waist and pulled her in, pressing his face into her stomach. Sora stood, frozen in shock, and the first thought that ran through her mind was: _Is Taichi crying?_

But no, he remained perfectly still, and he made no additional move other than to tighten his hold on her. As always, he felt warm, strong, and comforting, and despite whatever anxiety was plaguing him now, Sora felt herself leaning into the hug. She rested a hand on his hair, feeling the smooth fluffiness of it threading through her fingers.

She was relatively certain this was one of the few times she had ever seen him waver, had ever seen him display a moment of weakness. Because weak was not a word one would ever associate with Taichi. But here, in the confines of his apartment, he had let his guard down… if only for a second.

She just wished she could get through to him.

"Taichi?"

His grip tightened with what felt like a mixture of desperation and reluctance, as if he were aware this was the last chance he'd have to do this, as if this was the last thing he'd be allowing himself.

To Sora's right, Biyomon was looking at him curiously.

Sora finally felt his body relax, and with a small sigh, he released his hold on her and pulled away. He didn't look at her as he stood and glanced at his phone again, which had just beeped.

"Come on, Koushiro and the others are on their way. We'll take the train."

He texted a quick response and snapped his phone shut again. There was a second's pause as he seemed to mentally steel himself, and then he finally looked at her. There was a ready smile on his face, a small upturn of the lips that made him look casually roguish, and he gestured towards the door.

"You ready?"

She nodded, still watching him carefully. "Of course. Are you?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," he said, and with a lightning quick smile, held out his hand.

She eyed the proffered hand, tanned from years of outdoors activities, looked up and met his eyes, and took it. His hand was large and comforting, his palm warm, and unbidden, she felt a small spark run through her. This was what safety felt like.

She was fully aware they'd never finished their conversation, that he had never given a real response to her question. But in the face of impending danger and the need to save the world, she'd let it go. For now.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Hope you enjoyed reading! It's always fun writing about Taichi & Yamato... and add in a little Sora and you have a nice unresolved love triangle. :) Please let me know what you think! _Digimon Adventure tri._ has been absolutely amazing so far and it's always a real struggle to wait for the next episode's release. SIGH.

 _xx KRS_


End file.
